


From Eden EP, Hozier, 2014

by Nghelik



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Agressive hand-holding, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley First Kiss (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hozier, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Kind of in the title, Misunderstandings, Romantic Fluff, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), not really angst, soft bois, sooooo much fluff, the first song of the EP is From Eden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24220810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nghelik/pseuds/Nghelik
Summary: Stupid soft husbands being stupid and soft....Or, Crowley gets Aziraphale a present, fluff happens, Crowley freaks out and more fluff happens.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Michael Sheen if you are reading this I love you.
> 
> With every review, a baby unicorn smiles.
> 
> Also, English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes please let me know.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was Wednesday, so Aziraphale didn’t really need to receive Crowley’s phone call to know he would be dining out. Nevertheless, he did enjoy the routine. The demon always called around noon, made plans to go around the store in the evening, and hung up the phone without actually saying goodbye. Aziraphale, in return, asked about the place they were going to, pretended to be annoyed when Crowley didn’t answer and smiled at the phone for a full minute after the call. It was a little ritual of theirs.

To be perfectly honest, Aziraphale didn’t only enjoy the routine.

That Wednesday had been no different so far. Crowley had called at two minutes past twelve, chuckled when Aziraphale asked where they were going and said he’d be by a bit after four. Then, after his required minute of staring at the phone, Aziraphale busied himself with rearranging some of the books on his shelves. By the time four o’clock arrived, all the books in his shop had been arranged in alphabetical order, by theme, by the publication date, by Aziraphale’s relationship with the author and, finally, they all went back to their original positions. It may have seemed absurd, but this movement was actually good for the books. For some reason. And it didn’t hurt that it kept him distracted all day.

At four o’clock, Aziraphale miracled his hands clean and went to the back to put the kettle on. That tradition had started as a sort of excuse to keep Crowley around for a bit longer before going to dinner, and eventually it became another little part of their Wednesday routine. At some point, they had stopped pretending that the fact that the tea was done exactly two and a half minutes before Crowley reached the bookshop was a coincidence.

That day, though, when the tea was ready, Aziraphale only had to wait forty seconds to hear his front door open and close. He wondered for a moment whether it might be a costumer, but Crowley’s unmistakable scent told him otherwise. For those of you wondering, it was a bit sulphur (like all demons), a bit humidity (that was the snake part) and a bit cinnamon and leather (those bits were all Crowley). The angel listened as his friend slithered around the apparently unmoving piles of books towards the back of the shop.

“Hey, angel. It’s me.”

As if he hadn’t been expecting that voice for hours. Aziraphale refrained from rolling his eyes and answered.

“Hello, dear. Your tea is ready. Be careful, though. It’s a bit hotter than usual.”

Crowley snatched the cup from the counter and gulped down half his tea in a second. He coughed a little and looked at Aziraphale in disbelief.

“Are you trying to kill me? It’s boiling!”

“Well, you are early today.”

Crowley stammered.

“Oh, uhm… You know, I was just waiting around anyway, so I thought I’d… Be early? Didn’t think it’d be a problem, but–”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Of course it’s not.”

Aziraphale could sense Crowley’s muscles relaxing at that. He was unusually… cautious. He didn’t like it one bit. If there was something they had never been around each other, it was _cautious_. Specially the last few hundred years.

“Why don’t you go sit on the sofa, I will join you in a minute.”

Crowley positioned himself against the counter and sighed as Aziraphale started cleaning the teapot.

“Angel, I honestly don’t understand why you insist on doing that yourself. You could just miracle it clean.”

“I know, but I enjoy the ritual. I always clean it when you come over on Wednesdays.”

“Ngk.”

Crowley took both their mugs and moved to the sofa. Aziraphale smiled as he rinsed the pot. He loved that Crowley always got a bit flustered when he said stuff like that. He put the pot on the dish rack and joined the demon, who by then had drained his cup and was holding Aziraphale’s to warm his hands. He was staring into the wall, eyes lost and unfocused. It was unusual of him to be so distracted.

“Is everything alright, Crowley?”

“What? Yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. “

“Are you sure? You seem a bit off.”

“I’m fine, angel, don’t worry about it. You feel like going to the Ritz tonight?”

“Oh, yes I do. I have actually been craving their chestnut meringue. It is positively sinful.”

Crowley smiled at that.

“That’s settled then.”

He picked up his mug from the table, fiddled with it, and put it back.

“Actually, angel, I have something for you.”

“Oh, really? What is it?”

Crowley took a small package from inside his pocket and gave it to him. Aziraphale opened it to see a disc. Crowley fidgeted a bit.

“I met this guy a few years ago, and he let me hear some of his stuff. I thought you’d enjoy it, it’s… Kind of your style, I think. And you really ought to update your musical tastes, angel. Sondheim isn’t exactly modern, you know.”

“Oh, Crowley, that’s so sweet of you. “

“Ngk.”

“Oh, I mean it. Thank you. It’s really thoughtful.”

He leaned in and kissed Crowley’s cheek. The demon went still. Aziraphale got up and went to his CD player on the corner of the room.

“You know, I’m not usually up for listening to your kind of music, but I’d love to give it a try. You do know me pretty well, after all, so I trust this is not your usual bebop. I am going to play it right now, and we can go to the Ritz aft- Crowley, is something wrong?”

He hadn’t moved an inch.

“Is… Are you alright, dear?”

That seemed to get him out of his trance. He got up and paced around the room for a minute.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, it’s… I just remembered, I have something to do, I can’t make dinner tonight. I gotta go. It… I’ll call you, alright?”

With that he dashed out of the shop, as if he was being chased by the legions of the damned. Aziraphale looked around, bedazzled. What the Heaven had just happened?


	2. Chapter 2

  
  


A week had passed since the _incident_ , as Aziraphale had been calling it in his mind, and he had been racking his brain trying to figure out what had happened to make Crowley run out of his shop like that. Had he said something wrong? Did he spook Crowley somehow? Or was there something so important that he had to miss their date ni- their weekly dinner? If there was, was he safe? And, the question that really had Aziraphale biting his nails (not that he’d ever actually bite his nails, that was a disgusting human habit he had never understood), would that change their relationship from then on? He hadn’t heard from Crowley all week, but to be honest, that wasn’t all that strange. In the past, they had gone hundreds of years without contact of any kind. Even after the Arrangement, and ignoring Crowley’s centuries-long nap, they had gone years without talking to each other. True enough, since the averted Apocalypse, they had grown considerably closer, but it still wasn’t unusual for them to go all week without a phone call.

Nevertheless, as noon neared that Wednesday morning, Aziraphale grew more and more restless. He had been just about to pick up the phone and call his friend several times that week, but he hadn’t wanted to annoy him. So, when the phone finally rang, Aziraphale ran towards it and picked it up in a heartbeat.

“Crowley?”

“Hey, angel, sorry about the other day.”

“Don’t you worry about that. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Sorry I run out on you, though. Let me make it up to you tonight, yeah? We can go to the Ritz, get you that meringue.”

“Yes, of course, but… Are you sure everything is fine, dear?”

“I promise, angel. Everything’s alright. Pick you up at four.”

He hung up after that, leaving Aziraphale flabbergasted. He set out to his usual Wednesday routine, rearranging his books to try and get himself out of his own mind. That day, though, distracted as he was, he didn’t get even halfway through his process when the clock struck four o’clock and his front door opened.

“Oh! So sorry, dear, I lost track of the time. I’ll go put the kettle on.”

“No rush, angel.”

Crowley passed him on his way to the sofa, quickly kissed Aziraphale’s cheek and sat down, immersing himself into his phone.

Well, that was a charming development.

  
  


  
  


  
  


The rest of their evening went on without a hitch. Crowley even seemed to be back to his normal, witty self. They had their usual cup of tea in Aziraphale’s shop, they had an amazing dinner at the Ritz, Aziraphale finally got to enjoy the chestnut meringue he had been craving, and when he offered Crowley their usual drink back at his shop he agreed as readily as he always did. Everything seemed to be back to the way it was.

Except for that kiss, but Aziraphale had decided not to fixate on that tiny detail. It had probably been a fluke. An accident. Nothing important.

He didn’t have a lot of time to ignore it, though. They got drunk, as usual, and after a few hours, not long after Crowley’s third yawn of the night, he got up and stretched.

“Well, I should get going. It’s late.”

“Right. I keep forgetting. Your body is used to sleeping.”

“You should try it sometime, angel. It’s nice.”

“Maybe sometime.”

Aziraphale got up and walked Crowley to the door. He was a bit dizzy by that point. They had polished three full bottles of a Châteauneuf-du-pape he’d had on the shop for years. Therefore it was not that strange that he didn’t immediately react when Crowley kissed his cheek right before opening the door.

“Good night, angel.”

Aziraphale waved him goodbye as the demon got on the Bentley and drove away. He locked the door and went to the back to tidy up their mess. He had already put away the bottles and was halfway through rinsing their glasses when he realized.

Crowley had kissed him.

 _Again_.

He stopped rinsing the glasses. It _was_ weird of Crowley to be so openly affectionate. He was a demon, after all. Demons didn’t just go around casually kissing their friends. Although, now that he thought about it, demons didn’t really even _have_ friends. Did they?

After a moment of contemplation, he dismissed it. It was probably a one-time thing. He might have had a hard day or something. Yes, that was probably it. It was a… an accident. It wouldn’t happen again.

  
  


  
  


  
  


It happened again.

In fact, it happened a lot more times after that. For a couple of months since that day, every Wednesday evening Crowley kissed his cheek when he entered the shop, and again at the end of the night. It quickly became another part of their Wednesday routine.

And it wasn’t only that. After the first few times, Crowley started to make casual contact with him. It might sound unimportant, but for them it was big. For example, five weeks ago, when they were walking to the car, their hands brushed and the demon, instead of flinching away, like he usually did, let their hands brush. The third time it happened, Crowley laced their pinkies together. Aziraphale’s head snapped up at that, but Crowley was staring straight ahead, so the angel just went along with it and continued rambling about that rude man that had gotten all handsy with his first edition of _The Ghost of Canterville_. It was signed, for crying out loud. He might have gotten a little bit more worked up than usual because he loved the small smile Crowley always almost managed to hide before chastising him about his protectiveness of his books. He did miss, however, the look on his face when he looked at the angel during those ramblings. What he didn’t miss was the way Crowley’s hand seemed to hover around the small of his back every time he walked through a door. Or how he seemed to purposefully linger a bit whenever he handed him anything.

Aziraphale hadn’t addressed those little changes, mostly because he didn’t want to spook Crowley out of doing it. He had really been enjoying the attention.

One night, after their dinner at the Smoke & Salt and a sinful parsnip flatbread, they were making their way back to the Bentley when Crowley started fidgeting with his hands. After a couple of moments, he stuffed them in his pockets and glanced at the angel.

“Say, Aziraphale, did you… Uhm… Did you ever listen to that EP I gave you?”

“Oh! Oh, the disc! I’m so sorry, dear, it completely slipped my mind.”

“Oh, no, no, that’s fine. You don’t… Have to listen to it or anything. It was just an idea.”

“Crowley, I-”

“Seriously, angel, it’s fine.”

He got in the car and shut the door. Aziraphale pondered for a moment, then got in the car too. If Crowley said it was fine, then it was. He wasn’t going to dwell on it.

During the ride, Crowley was his usual reckless self, driving exceedingly fast and bickering with Aziraphale over the music. He seemed to be a bit down, though. Well, not exactly down. Crowley never let his guard down enough to let anyone actually see if he was _down_. He did seem to be less adamant than usual in his defence of his car’s taste in music.

When they got to the bookshop, the demon got out of the car and walked with Aziraphale, but hesitated when the door was open.

“You know, I’m actually a bit tired. I think I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh… Well, are you sure? Do you… Want to talk about something?”

“No, no, I’m fine, just tired, angel. Save that drink for another day.”

“Well… Alright. Good night, then.”

“Good night.”

Aziraphale watched as he got in the car and drove away. Despite his reassurance, he couldn’t help but feel like there was something wrong. He hadn’t gotten his usual good night kiss, after all, and, as hard as it was to admit, he had gotten used to it. He decided to finally do something about it and talk to Crowley. He didn’t exactly know how to do it, though. Then, it struck him. He was going to listen to that disc Crowley gave him, and then he’d have an excuse to call him in a day or two.

He wasn’t going to call him immediately, he did not want to seem too eager.

So, he got inside, made himself a cocoa and sat down on the armchair beside his record player. It took him a couple of minutes to get it to work, but he finally managed and the soft sounds of a guitar filled the room. He sat down and listened.

  
  


  
  


  
  


Incessant knocking woke Crowley up. He grumbled all the way to the door and opened it forcefully.

“What?”

Aziraphale put his hand down.

“Oh, uh… Hello. Did I wake you?”

Crowley groaned and checked his watch.

“Angel, it’s… Five in the morning, of course you woke me. What are you doing here?”

“I listened to it.”

Crowley seemed to wake up at that. He straightened his back and scratched his neck.

“Right. That. Uhm… Come in.”

He led Aziraphale to the kitchen, where two steaming cups of tea were waiting for them. Crowley leaned against the counter with his cup in his hands, while the angel settled in one of the chairs. He was feeling very nervous all of a sudden. He had been so confident until a minute ago. When he sat down to listen to the disc, he wasn’t expecting a song like _that_. It was so raw and charged with feeling. He had listened to it on repeat for hours. Eventually, he had gathered enough courage and left his shop in a rush. He wasn’t even sure what for, he just needed to see Crowley. Now that the demon was standing in front of him though, with his rumpled black satin pyjamas and bed tousled hair, he had no idea what to say. Thankfully, he didn’t have to start the conversation.

“So… Did you like it?”

“Yes! Yes, I loved it. It was… It was a whole new experience, that’s for sure.”

He chuckled and sipped his tea. Crowley stared at him for a moment, then sighed.

“Look, Aziraphale, if you came up here to discuss music, that’s fine, but couldn’t it have waited a couple more hours?”

It was Aziraphale’s turn to sigh.

“No. I mean, it could. Wait. I could have waited. I didn’t come over to talk about music. Well, I mean, of course I did. That song was… You know what, never mind, that isn’t the point. Actually, it kind of is. I did come over because of the song. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. Not that I don’t want to talk about the song, it’s a beautiful song. I would love talking about it. And I really… I really enjoy talking to you. About music. Or anything else, really. But that song–”

“Angel, stop. You’re rambling.”

“Sorry. What I meant is…” Aziraphale took a deep breath to help him gather his thoughts. “I loved the song, Crowley. And I’ve spent all night listening to it on repeat, and then… I just had to talk to you. I needed to tell you that… Well, I think you need to know that–”

The demon put down his cup and crossed his arms.

“Aziraphale, stop.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to go on, I know what you’re going to say.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh… Well.” Aziraphale put down his cup as well. “There’s that, then. I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“That’s alright, I understand.”

“Really? Oh, that’s a relief.”

Crowley looked down and sniffed. Aziraphale noticed he was gripping the counter with a lot of strength.

“You didn’t need to keep it to yourself for so long, you know. I kind of figured. I get that you did it to spare me, but–”

“Wait, what?”

“What?”

“What do you mean, I did it to spare you?”

The demon looked at him, confused.

“You listened to it, right? The first song of that disc.”

“Yes, of course I did. I just told you that.”

“And then you came here to talk to me, so...”

“So...”

“So… You know.”

“I… I think so, yes. Was I wrong to assume that–”

“No, no you weren’t. Ngk.” Crowley buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. Aziraphale stood up to approach him. “Look, there’s no point in denying it, so let’s just not make this harder than it needs to be. You don’t feel the same way, so–”

“What?”

“–You really don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll just get away from you.”

“Away?”

“I can move somewhere else, I just need–”

“Crowley.”

“–a couple of days to get my stuff–“

“Crowley.”

“–and you won’t have to see me ever again.”

“Crowley, stop!”

“The Earth’s a big place, there’s no reason for us to run into each other–”

Aziraphale kissed him. It was barely a kiss, really. Their lips touched for like two and a half seconds, and then Aziraphale stepped back, but it did work to shut the demon up. That was a handy new trick. Crowley gaped at him for a full minute, then shook his head.

“What was that?”

“Well, I believe I just kissed you.”

“Yeah… Why?”

“You were rambling, dear.”

Crowley stared at him again.

“Wait, didn’t…? So… You...”

Aziraphale smiled at him and put his hands on Crowley’s waist.

“Take your time.”

Crowley took a deep breath and started again.

“So, you… You didn’t come here to reject me?”

“Did that feel like rejection to you?”

Was Crowley blushing?

“Maybe you didn’t want to hurt my feelings?”

Aziraphale laughed and slowly moved his thumbs up and down Crowley’s hipbones.

“You silly, silly boy. If you had let me finish talking earlier, you would know that I feel the same way about you.”

“You do?”

That was _definitely_ a squeak.

“I do.”

Crowley hesitantly put his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders.

“But you… I mean, you said… I mean… Okay, if we’re having this conversation, you need to stop stroking my hips like that.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be, just… Save it for later.”

“Will do.”

Crowley took a deep breath again and tapped his fingers lightly on Aziraphale’s shoulders.

“You said… You were sorry that you hadn’t told me sooner.”

“Yes, because we could have been together for a while now.”

“But… That whole going too fast thing–“

“Oh, dear, I’m aware of what I said, but… That was fifty years ago. Since then, I’ve had time to… Get up to speed, so to say.”

“Oh. Uhm… I see.”

“Okay, I see you are still wrapping your mind around this, and I woke you up early, so I’d better go. Let you rest.”

He tried to step back, but Crowley tightened his grip on his shoulders.

“No! What? No. Don’t go.”

Aziraphale arched his brow.

“I mean… You don’t have to go. Unless you want to.”

“Crowley, I’d love to stay.”

“Oh. Good.”

The angel smiled and started stroking Crowley’s hipbones again, who in return laced his fingers behind Aziraphale’s neck. There was that blush again. Oh, he was going to have a lot of fun with this.

“I have an idea, if you are up for it.”

“What is it?”

“You could… Show me what is so great about this sleeping thing you talk so much about. If you’d like.”

Crowley’s face got as red as his hair at that. A lot of fun indeed.


End file.
